


The Birthday Train

by kimberquel (kimberly_a)



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Birthday Smut, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, M/M, Oral Sex, Train Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 00:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19878766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimberly_a/pseuds/kimberquel
Summary: Eliot gives Quentin a birthday present





	The Birthday Train

**Author's Note:**

> So the RAO randomly chose tomorrow as Quentin's birthday (it's a slightly long story), and people kept saying they were going to write fics for Q's birthday, that they were getting "on the birthday train." So the title is kind of an inside joke. I'm posting it a little bit early—an hour and a half before July 20 in my time zone—because I tend to sleep late in the morning (because my husband works nights) and I don't want to miss out on the fun tomorrow morning.
> 
> This story was inspired by a scene in the movie "Risky Business," which is probably considerably older than most people reading this fic.
> 
> I wrote this completely spontaneously and all in good fun, so it isn't intended to be great literature, and it hasn't been beta'd or even proofread all that carefully. It's just some fun smut. I hope people are able to enjoy it as such.
> 
> Happy birthday, Quentin Makepeace Coldwater!

“But why do we have to take the subway?” Quentin complained, glancing around nervously at the guy muttering in a corner, presumably having a conversation with the trash can he was excavating. “It’s dirty … and smelly … and… uh … can’t we just open a portal or something?”

Beneath his coat, Eliot tugged at his waistcoat, looking so elegantly out of place that it was ridiculous. He looked like a lord who had stepped down into the world of the commoners. “It’s part of the birthday present,” he explained patiently, his voice calm and precise as always. “Just be patient, Q. All will be revealed.” He smiled slightly, as if at some private joke.

When the train pulled up, they stepped into a car and found seats as far as possible from the other passengers. Quentin inspected the seat before he sat down, sure that it must be covered in the germs of a thousand grimey past butts that had sat there before him. Well, probably not their actual butts. But in New York City, you never knew for sure.

The train started moving. “Where are we going?” he asked Eliot.

“Along a path with plenty of time between stations,” Eliot replied mysteriously. “Or, if necessary, I can prolong the time as needed.” He lingered on the word “prolong” in a somewhat suggestive way that made Quentin curious in a different way than he’d been before.

“Eliot…” he drawled suspiciously, dragging the word out. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing bad,” Eliot assured him, smoothing his hair into place and giving him a secretive smile. “But I promise you’ll like it. It’s your birthday present, after all. I promise you’ll _really_ like it.”

The train had been moving for only a few moments when Quentin felt Eliot’s hand on his thigh. He jumped slightly, not expecting such an intimate touch in a public place. But then Eliot’s hand began sliding upward toward an even more intimate … location … and Quentin glanced around nervously. No one seemed to be looking at them. And then Eliot’s hand was directly over the fly of Quentin’s jeans, and the only thing blocking them from obvious exposure was the fall of Quentin’s overshirt, which hung open far enough that it really didn’t provide any privacy at all.

“Eliot!” he hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you your birthday present,” Eliot smirked. Quentin watched his face, then couldn’t help closing his eyes when Eliot squeezed him through his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he muttered. Then he opened his eyes and looked around the train car again. It wasn’t exactly crowded, but it wasn’t empty, either. Anyone could see them if they happened to look. “We have to stop,” he moaned as Eliot unbuttoned his jeans. “God no, you can’t do that.”

“But it’s your _birthday_ present,” Eliot pouted, slowly pulling down the zipper of Quentin’s jeans. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a slight exhibitionist streak, Q, because I won’t believe you.”

Quentin looked at Eliot in shock. “How did you…”

“I can see how much more you enjoy getting your hands on me when other people are around. I can feel how much more excited you get by kissing when people can see us. I can extrapolate data, Q. I’m not exactly inexperienced in this area.” His hand slid into Q’s jeans and lightly stroked him through the fabric of his underwear.

Quentin was panting now, trying to keep his eyes open. “There’s a big difference between kissing on the lawn at Brakebills and getting a handjob on a public subway car.”

“Did you just ask me to give you a handjob?” Eliot purred. “Because, heavens, that hadn’t occurred to me, but since you ask so nicely…” he raised his hand to the waistband of Quentin’s underwear and began to slide it down far enough to get his hand inside, but Quentin grabbed his wrist.

“Not … not like this,” Quentin breathed heavily. “I can’t have this many people … watching … not while you do this…”

Eliot heaved a disappointed sigh. “Oh fine. If you want to take all the fun out of it.” He made a couple tuts with his fingers and everyone else in the subway car disappeared.

Quentin glanced around in confusion and amazement. “What did you do? I mean, where are they?” He frowned in obvious concern. “Did you … do something to them?”

Eliot rolled his eyes. “Oh, they’re still there, sitting in their boring little seats living their boring little lives thinking their boring little thoughts, but we can’t see them and they can’t see us. We’re all still in the same subway car together, but … is that enough privacy for you? And yet enough exhibitionism, knowing that we’re doing this right in front of them even though they can’t see it?”

“I never said I was an exhibitionist,” Quentin objected, but his face was pink.

“Fine, fine,” Eliot waved his words away. “Let me ask it another way, then. Would you like your birthday present if you got to have an extraordinary orgasm right here in front of all these strangers without them even knowing it was happening?”

Quentin bit his lip, watching Eliot’s face. Then he nodded, obviously embarrassed but just as obviously turned on.

Eliot slid his hand into Quentin’s underwear quick as a snake, grabbing his prick and making Quentin arch in surprise, his head falling back and a surprised gasp escaping his mouth. “I didn’t expect…”

“Oh, I’ve got plans for you, my sweet little Q,” Eliot purred. “I know what your innocent little mind actually wants, and I’m going to give it to you, right here in this subway car in front of all these people.” He patted the pocket of his coat and murmured, “I’ve got lube.”

“Oh holy fuck,” Quentin gasped again, his hips thrusting up into Eliot’s hand, which now stroked him slowly, squeezing occasionally and gently swiping across the head.

“I know you like it dry sometimes,” Eliot said, not bothering to lower his voice.

“They can’t hear us, either?” Quentin asked desperately.

“Oh, no, they can hear us just fine,” Eliot replied. “We just look like we’re sitting here like a couple of boring subway passengers staring at nothing. I put our previous behavior on a loop, so that’s all they see, but they’ll hear every noise you make.”

“Then keep your fucking voice down,” Quentin muttered.

“But I’m not saying anything incriminating,” Eliot remarked innocently. “I think it’s going to be _you_ who has to keep your voice down.” He stroked Quentin again, his hand loose. “As I was saying, I know you like it loose and dry sometimes, how it feels different than when we use anything slick, or when you’re in my mouth…”

Quentin’s hips bucked unintentionally.

“Mmm,” Eliot mused. “That was quite a reaction. Do you want my mouth on you, Q?”

Quentin closed his eyes tightly, and apparently Eliot took that for an affirmative answer, because he tugged at Quentin’s jeans and underwear until he had enough room, then leaned over from his seat, curving his back enough to be able to take Quentin’s dick into his mouth. Quentin cried out, then shoved his hand in his mouth, aware of all the other passengers around them who could hear any sound he made. Just knowing they were there made the sensations of Eliot’s mouth on him more intense.

Eliot swirled his tongue and gave Quentin’s dick a strong suck, coaxing another moan out of Quentin mouth, which he knew could be heard even around his hand. He bit down on his hand in an attempt to stay silent, but he thought about that lube in Eliot’s pocket, and he thought about the people all around him and he could barely contain himself from coming on the spot, right into Eliot’s mouth in the middle of a subway train.

“Stop,” he panted. “Stop, wait, no … I’m going to come,” he stammered, and Eliot rose back to his usual sitting position with his perfect posture.

“Already?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “But I haven’t given you your birthday present yet.”

“Jesus,” Quentin breathed. “This hasn’t been my birthday present?”

Eliot nodded agreeably. “Well, yes, it’s all part of it, but I had something special planned, just for you, just for today.”

“What … what is it?” Quentin asked in some trepidation.

“Wouldn’t you rather have me show you?” Eliot smirked.

Quentin watched Eliot’s face. “I’m not … sure.”

“It involves the lube,” Eliot said temptingly, his eyes glinting in the flickering light of the subway car.

“Shhh!” Quentin urged him. “Don’t say that so loud! People will hear.”

“But that’s all the fun of it, Q. Knowing that people will hear. Being afraid that they’ll know what’s going on. It’s all so illicit and forbidden. Don’t you love it?” He watched Quentin’s face. “Because I know you do.”

Quentin bit his lip. “What … what is my birthday present?” he asked hesitantly. “Can we … can you give it to me now?”

“Oh, in such a rush!” Eliot chuckled. “But I suppose this whole thing might have you a bit worked up, so I don’t mind.” And then he began unfastening his own trousers, making Quentin stare in shock.

Eliot took the lube out of his coat pocket and pulled his trousers down to mid-thigh. He wasn’t wearing anything beneath, which wasn’t unusual, as he said briefs and boxers ruined the line of well-tailored trousers, but the lack of underwear allowed his hard cock to immediately spring free. Eliot glanced down, then grinned at Quentin. “You always underestimate how much it turns me on to give you head.”

Quentin blushed, then blinked repeatedly in shock when Eliot began slicking Quentin’s cock before reaching behind himself and moving his hand in a way that made it very clear what he was doing.

“Thank goodness for magic,” Eliot winked at Quentin. “And the spell for relaxing muscles.” He brought his hands forward, one of them slick with lube, and performed a few simple tuts. “There we are,” he sighed, straddling Quentin’s lap.

“But … but…” Quentin stuttered. Eliot was a top. He’d never bottomed for Quentin, and Quentin didn’t mind that in the slightest, because he loved the feel of Eliot thrusting inside him.

“Yes,” Eliot laughed, “that is my ‘butt.’” And then he grasped Quentin’s hard cock and lined himself up before sinking down slowly, throwing his head back and letting out a deep sigh. “Oh. You feel exquisite.” He moved up and down, very slowly, and Quentin felt like he was going to come just from watching Eliot’s pale throat arched back like that. He strained upward to kiss the pale skin. “We should do this more often,” Eliot murmured.

“Um … sex … on trains?” Quentin tried to joke as he gripped Eliot’s hips so hard his fingers went white with the pressure. “Oh fuck, El, yeah, like that.” His words made Eliot look down at him, his dark curls falling over his forehead as he repeated the slight squeeze that had affected Quentin so much.

“You fucking me,” Eliot corrected him, his voice gone deeper than usual, which from experience Quentin interpreted as an indication of arousal. Eliot wanted Quentin to fuck him more often?

Quentin raised a hand up, because Eliot was really quite a bit taller than him while sitting in his lap, and sank his hands into Eliot’s hair, trying to pull him down for a kiss. Eliot obliged eagerly, leaning down even as his hips continued their inexorable slide up and down, letting his lips and then his tongue touch Quentin’s. He licked into Quentin’s mouth and panted a breath against his lips, then leaned back up to sit astride Quentin as he rode him and the train jostled them occasionally.

“Oh god,” Quentin suddenly panicked. “What if the train stops at a station?” Then he moaned as Eliot slid down while squeezing his internal muscles again.

“Won’t happen,” Eliot panted. “I spelled it to keep going as long as we do.” He grinned down at Quentin, then twined a hand into his hair. “God you have the sexiest hair. I mean, besides mine. Your hair shouldn’t be so sexy when it’s just this long mane you don’t style at all, but I love it.” He continued moving up and down on top of Quentin, and Quentin could feel himself getting closer and closer to orgasm. “Someday, I want to wrap your hair around my cock and masturbate that way, feel it all soft and slick against my dick … would you let me do that, Q?

Quentin nodded desperately. “Oh fuck, El, I’m going to come soon. Can I…” He reached toward Eliot’s dick, hard between them.

“This is just for you, Q. It’s your birthday present. I don’t need anything … not until we get home. Exhibitionism isn’t my kink, in particular. I just wanted to do something special for you for your birthday.”

“You wanted to fuck me on a train as something special for my birthday?” Quentin groaned, getting closer and closer, not even aware or caring anymore that the other people on the train would be able to hear everything he was saying.

Eliot nodded, looking down at him with a lascivious smile. “And it seems as if you like it. Do you like it, Q? Do you like fucking me on a train surrounded by strangers as your birthday present?”

“Yes!” Quentin cried out, hips bucking, and he wasn’t sure if it was an answer to Eliot’s question or just an exclamation in response to the orgasm being drawn out of his body as if he were a fire hydrant. “Oh god yes,” he said more softly as he began to come down off his high, slumping down into the uncomfortable subway seat.

Eliot settled down onto Quentin’s lap, letting Quentin’s cock slip out of him when he’d become soft enough, and looked down at him with a gentle expression. “Happy birthday, Q,” he whispered before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to lips that curved lazily against his.

“Thank you,” Quentin whispered back.

Once they’d recovered sufficiently, they got themselves sorted, spelled their clothes clean and unwrinkled, and sat back in their seats as if nothing had happened. Eliot raised his hands, performed a few tuts, and suddenly several other people surrounded them in the subway car, looking very confused. One elderly lady looked quite flushed, with a slight smile on her face. No one looked at Eliot and Quentin, who had by all appearances been sitting innocently in their seats the entire time.

Presumably much later than should have happened, the train pulled into the next station and came to a stop. Eliot stood, offered Quentin his hand, and helped him up. And then they walked to the doors and got off.


End file.
